So why is it that no one will believe that molestation and rape actually happen to people, that its not just a scam or a way to get f'ing attention? No one believes that I have had so many bad things happen to me. They think I make it all up to get sympathy, or that I have some twisted version of Munchhausen's. Like there is no way that I was molested by a neighbor at my mom's, another neighbor at my Dad's (they're divorced and went back and forth between every week when I was a minor), and then raped by 3 random strangers. Later had an emotionally and physically abusive boyfriend. And why is it so hard to tell people you love (Parents, siblings, other family, friends and significant others)? Desperately feel the need to talk about what has happened, not just saying "yeah... I was molested, raped, then molested more, by 3 different people" But actually TALK about it. I think it's against the rules, after reading some threads, to go into details about what happened. But I thimk I'm at the point where I really need to go into details. Nothing graphic. But explain the situation more in detail.. I have vivid memories of all of the molestations from when I was little. Can remember being pulled into a car while I was walking down a street and raped by 3 guys when I was 14. How could I dream these things up, like so many have told me? How could I have vivid smells, and still be able to feel their hands if it was all just a dream? Am I really that insane? How could I fake the emotional destruction from a boyfriend constantly telling me I was fat, ugly, a p.o.s, my stories and poetry were pointless, because I would never go anywhere with it? How could I fake the cuts, bruises and glass in my forehead from when he hit me with his car because I bought him the wrong kind of soda? Is this possible? I know I didn't deserve to be molested by either of my neighbors, because I was only 6-8 for the 2 years it happened. The rape was probably my fault. I shouldn't have been walking down a street alone at night to the arcade. That was a stupid move on my part. Shouldn't have been wearing a skirt, even though it wasn't a short one. I know they hurt me, and took a piece of me that I can never get back, but why do I still feel bad for what I did to THEM? I managed to kick two of them and cut one with a knife or piece of a broken bottle, not sure what it was, that was by me on the seat of the car. I fell out of the car and got away, but not before they got what they wanted. I didn't hurt them in anyway seriously. But I still feel like shit because I even did it. I'm sorry this has been such a long rant, but these things have been flying through my head for years, and have had no way to get them out. I don't even know what the point is of this post anymore. Im so upset and confused...I just don't know how to make sense of any of this anymore..